Fugitive From the Grave

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Fugitive From the Grave Page 16

by Edward Marston


  ‘They wrote to each other.’

  ‘Mr Parry would never have condoned that.’

  ‘That’s why the letters never came to the house. Her cousin, Millicent, was her confidante. She posted all of Clemency’s letters to Amsterdam and any replies went to her house.’

  ‘Was the uncle aware of the subterfuge?’

  ‘He more or less instigated it, Peter.’

  ‘I can see why he and his brother fell out.’

  ‘Mr Parry was incensed. Tempers did cool somewhat in time, but his brother died before they could settle their differences. Clemency’s aunt hailed from Scotland. After her husband’s death, she and her family returned there. That’s why Clemency could get no help from them when she arrived here. They were hundreds of miles away.’

  ‘No wonder she felt lost in London.’

  ‘Clemency said she’d forgotten more than she remembered.’

  ‘She owed a lot to her cousin and even more to her uncle, perhaps. He made her marriage possible. At least we didn’t have that problem with your father,’ he went on. ‘He raised no objections to me.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘You said that he liked me from the start.’

  ‘Not entirely,’ she teased. ‘When he first met you, my father thought you were too set in your ways and too opinionated.’

  ‘I’m neither of those things.’

  ‘His other concern was that you were unreliable.’

  Peter laughed. ‘He must have been thinking of Paul,’ he said. ‘We’re often mistaken for each other.’

  Though they’d been back in their room for a couple of hours, they were nowhere near retiring to their beds. Hannah was still worrying about the incident in the restaurant and Paul was unable to soothe her. When he tried to shift the conversation to the theatre, all that he did was set off a second source of anguish.

  ‘How can I possibly face that devious woman tomorrow?’ she moaned. ‘Mr Teale will doubtless have told her about my attempt at getting her removed, and she’ll be smirking in triumph.’

  ‘That is simply not true,’ he said. ‘To begin with, the manager is far more discreet. He’s handled situations like this before. Mr Teale would never dream of telling Miss Ingram about your demand.’

  ‘She’ll find out somehow.’

  ‘Show more faith in the manager. As for Miss Ingram, the best way to deal with her is to kill her with kindness. Throughout the rehearsals, be excessively pleasant to her – then act her off the stage once you get in front of an audience.’

  Hannah smiled. ‘That’s the best advice you’ve given me, Paul.’

  ‘She’s here to stay. You must accept that.’

  ‘I do so with the utmost reluctance.’

  ‘I’m sure that Miss Ingram will pose no problem. Like everyone else in the cast, she’s aware of the ordeal you faced on the journey here. She admires you for carrying on so bravely. Lots of actresses in your position would have been quite unable to fulfil their commitments.’

  ‘At this moment in time, I feel that I am.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like the Hannah Granville that I know,’ he said, putting an arm around her shoulder.

  They were seated on the sofa and he believed that it was a hopeful sign. For the first hour or so, she’d marched relentlessly up and down the room and gesticulated wildly. Simply getting her to sit down had been an achievement, but it was only an interim stage.

  ‘It’s late,’ he said, softly. ‘We’re both very tired.’

  ‘How can I possibly sleep?’

  ‘You could at least try.’

  ‘My mind is in turmoil.’ She turned guiltily towards him. ‘Oh, it’s so unfair on you, Paul. Instead of being home in London, you’ve had to stay here, putting up with my bad temper and my endless complaints. It must be unbearable.’

  ‘I’d rather be with you than without you, my love.’

  ‘But you were right in what you said a few moments ago.’

  ‘I said lots of things.’

  ‘You told me that I didn’t sound like the person you know.’

  ‘That’s true. As a rule, whenever you encounter unfavourable circumstances, you always fight back – not in this case, however. Something has happened to your resilience, Hannah, and it’s worrying. You were so indomitable in the past.’

  ‘Being robbed by highwaymen made me feel powerless,’ she explained. ‘You keep telling me to put the experience behind me, but I simply can’t when that man is still hounding me.’

  ‘Let’s not get into that argument again,’ he pleaded. ‘We’ve spent far too long on it already. You know my view. The person who touched you in the restaurant was not the highwayman.’

  ‘But it was, Paul. Look at the sequence of events. Firstly, he stands out there and stares up at our window. Secondly, he sends me that brooch. Thirdly, this evening, he ogles me in a restaurant.’

  ‘He was with someone else, Hannah, and he certainly wasn’t ogling you.’

  ‘You must trust my instinct, Paul.’

  ‘I prefer to rely on my own,’ he said, stoutly. ‘The highwayman who robbed you chose his moment carefully and had all the advantages. He took the coachman by surprise and had armed confederates with him. There was no such help available in the restaurant. If anything, the lady would have hampered his escape. And you were not defenceless this time because I was sitting beside you.’

  ‘That’s true,’ she admitted, reluctantly.

  ‘If you’d recognised him earlier, I’d have had no trouble catching him.’ He pulled her close. ‘Are you listening to me this time?’

  ‘Yes, Paul.’

  ‘It would have been folly on his part to give himself away.’

  ‘But I felt so certain …’

  ‘It was not him, Hannah,’ he said, firmly. ‘You have my word.’

  ‘What about the man I saw through the window?’

  ‘You were mistaken, my love.’

  ‘I suppose that I must have been.’

  ‘I’ve made progress at last,’ he said, giving her a gentle kiss.

  ‘I’m sorry I kept you up so late.’

  ‘All I want is for you to feel better.’

  She cupped his face in her hands. ‘Thank you, Paul.’

  As they stood up, she began to drift across to the window. She was just about to tug back the curtain when Paul clicked his tongue. Hannah went back to him. When Paul was there, she felt, she had nothing whatsoever to fear.

  Staying out of sight, the man in the street below watched the upstairs window until light finally disappeared from it. He then turned on his heel and walked slowly away from the hotel.

  Harry Chattergood’s night had been productive. He’d broken into two houses with comparative ease and entered a third by climbing up to an open attic window. Back in his room, he laid out everything on the bed and counted his takings. It was a sizeable haul. St Albans would be a rich source of booty. The only thing it lacked was a wonderful woman like Welsh Mary to take the edge off his exhilaration.

  The Runners were back at St Saviour’s Church early next morning and they brought Chevy Ruddock with them this time. The three of them scoured the churchyard for the best hiding place. In the far corner was the shed where the gravedigger kept his tools. It had no window but, if the door was left ajar, it would allow anyone inside to see every part of the churchyard. The three of them strode across to the shed. It was unlocked so they were able to open the door. Ruddock ducked his head to go inside but retreated quickly.

  ‘It stinks in there!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s as if some animal has died and rotted.’

  ‘You’ll get used to it,’ said Yeomans.

  ‘Do I have to spend all night alone in that shed?’

  ‘No, it’s too dangerous to be on your own. You need help to tackle the bodysnatchers.’

  ‘We’ve got the ideal man for you,’ said Hale. ‘Bill Filbert.’

  ‘He’s far too old, sir. Bill will fall asleep.’

 
‘That’s why you have to stay awake, Chevy.’

  ‘Yes,’ added Yeomans, ‘we’ve gone for a blend of youth and experience. You and Bill Filbert have well worked together before. As long as we keep him sober, Bill won’t let us down.’

  ‘How long must I stay here, Mr Yeomans?’

  ‘It could be one night or a matter of weeks.’

  Ruddock gasped. ‘Weeks in that pigsty?’

  ‘Put a peg on your nose.’

  ‘What is Agnes going to say?’

  ‘You’re not having your wife in there as well. That’s forbidden.’

  ‘I’m talking about the stench. If I go home smelling of that, she won’t let me anywhere near her.’ They laughed coarsely. ‘It’s no joke.’

  ‘Denial is good for the soul,’ said Hale.

  ‘In any case,’ suggested Yeomans, ‘there’s an easy solution. You can either take a bath in the river before you go home, or you buy yourself a supply of perfume. That will hide any unpleasant odours. And there’s another advantage – when she inhales the perfume, your wife will think that the Angel Gabriel has come to pleasure her.’

  Jem Huckvale proved his worth immediately. Thrilled to be working with Peter once again, he was told what progress had so far been made, then was sent off in search of Geoffrey Taylor. All that he had to guide him were some rather incoherent directions from Mungo Darwood. Peter expected that it might take him all morning to find the place but Huckvale came galloping back in less than an hour. Both of them then rode off towards the docks. The engineering works consisted of a couple of converted warehouses not far from the water’s edge. As the visitors entered, there was a grating hullabaloo from the men at their workbenches.

  When he heard why they’d come, Taylor invited both men into his office where there was marginally less noise. He was a short, fidgety, intense man who seemed far too old to be still in work.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘Why is a man of my age still coming here six days a week when I could be at home leading a life of leisure?’

  ‘What’s the answer, Mr Taylor?’ asked Peter.

  ‘I love engineering. It’s the reason that George Parry and I got on so well together. We were two of a kind. We lived for our work.’ He pulled a face. ‘In his case, alas, the magic eventually wore off.’

  ‘We’ve discovered that.’

  ‘I could kick myself for not realising that George was in such trouble. If he needed money, he only had to ask, but there was a stubborn streak in the man that stopped him doing so. By the time I learnt what had become of him,’ he said, ‘it was too late.’

  ‘Could you tell us something about his work, please?’

  ‘I should have thought that his daughter would have done that, Mr Skillen. She must have been aware of his achievements.’

  ‘According to her,’ said Peter, ‘she took very little interest in his career. The one thing she did remember was being taken to Oxford on one occasion to see a bridge that her father had designed.’

  ‘He was very proud of that,’ said Taylor, ‘and rightly so. After hundreds of years, the old stone bridge was unsafe and close to collapse. I was commissioned to replace it and asked George to submit a design. He came up with the notion of an iron bridge that would be much stronger and far more durable yet still have a certain beauty about it. That bridge encapsulated the journey he’d made in his career, starting as a mason and moving on to leave stone behind and embrace new materials. It’s exactly what Thomas Telford did before him.’

  ‘I’ve heard of him,’ Huckvale piped up. ‘He built canals.’

  ‘He built everything that a civil engineer could build, young man, and he’s still doing it. As we speak, talks are being held to create an Institution of Civil Engineers and Mr Telford will be the obvious choice as its first president.’

  ‘Tell us more about Mr Parry,’ urged Peter.

  ‘He was a master of his craft, Mr Skillen. When he put his mind to it, there was nothing he couldn’t do, always finding a way to give a structure an individual touch that made it stand out. He was as much an artist as an engineer.’

  ‘I was told he had a gift for invention.’

  ‘He had everything,’ said Taylor, ‘which is why it was always a delight to employ him.’

  He went on to list some of his friend’s countless achievements, astounding Peter and Jem with the range and quantity of his work. Taylor was ashamed that he’d not heard about Parry’s downfall before it was too late to help him. He wished that he’d been able to speak at his funeral so that people knew what a huge loss Parry’s death represented to the world of civil engineering. In spite of the temptation, Peter decided against passing on his belief that Parry might still be alive in case he was raising false hopes.

  ‘You’ve told us about his virtues,’ remarked Peter. ‘What about his vices? Did he have any of those?’

  ‘We all have vices, I fear.’

  ‘What were they in his case, Mr Taylor?’

  ‘He was too single-minded.’

  ‘That can be a good thing in some instances, surely?’

  ‘I agree, Mr Skillen. It enabled him to concentrate on the job in hand and that was sometimes to the detriment of his family. His wife loved him, but she also resented his obsession with his work.’ Taylor gave a wry smile. ‘My own wife makes the same complaint about me.’

  ‘What other defects did Mr Parry have?’

  ‘He could be blinkered and hated compromise. But he was an essentially good fellow at heart.’

  ‘Was he a cruel man by nature?’

  ‘I suppose there’s cruelty involved if you treat other people’s ideas with disdain and he was sometimes guilty of that. There were complaints about his manner.’

  ‘I was thinking about his treatment of his daughter.’

  Taylor’s jaw tightened. ‘That was an unfortunate business.’

  ‘You think he was right to oppose her choice of husband?’

  ‘I know that he was, Mr Skillen.’

  Peter was surprised. ‘Really?’

  ‘You obviously don’t know the full story.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Clemency had as good as given her word to another suitor,’ said Taylor, solemnly. ‘She discarded him as if he’d never existed. That was unpardonable in my view. The suitor in question happened to be my son.’

  Peter was shocked. ‘I see.’

  ‘I don’t know what tales she’s been telling you, but she’s not the innocent party she pretends to be. Indeed, one could argue that she was partly responsible for what happened to her father. She drove him to an early grave. If, as you say, his daughter is staying with you,’ he warned, ‘then you are harbouring an evil woman in your house. Clemency van Emden has blood on her hands.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Given the problems she’d faced in the last few days, Hannah Granville was not looking forward to a second rehearsal. She believed that the manager would be very angry with her for demanding the removal of another member of the cast and that Elinor Ingram would take the opportunity to crow over her. In fact, the opposite happened. When she sailed into the rehearsal room that morning, there was a collective swell of affection towards her. Vernon Teale was even more attentive and obliging, while Elinor Ingram was subdued and respectful. Hannah began to feel at home. All thought of the highwayman had flitted away from her mind. She felt so confident that she relieved Paul of the task of staying there to safeguard her.

  He took advantage of the unexpected freedom to learn more about the ambush on the highway. Teale had already given him an address where he’d find Roderick Cosgrove, so he went straight to the man’s house. Small, ugly and neglected, it was a far cry from the dwellings owned by the elite of Bath society. The bodyguard only ever ventured into the more prosperous areas of the city when he was employed there. In response to the knock on his door, Cosgrove opened it himself and was taken aback to see Paul standing there.

  ‘Oh, good morning, sir,’ he said, re
cognising his visitor.

  ‘I was hoping to have a word with you, Cosgrove.’

  ‘I’ve no objection to that, sir.’

  ‘Might I step inside?’

  ‘That’s not really … convenient,’ said the other, glancing over his shoulder. ‘I have company.’

  ‘I’ve never been one to come between a man and his pleasures,’ said Paul, with an understanding smile.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Skillen. Now, what can I do for you?’

  ‘I’d like more detail of the robbery.’

  ‘Miss Granville will have told you everything.’

  ‘Yes, but it was the account of a terrified woman still shaking in her shoes at what happened. As a former soldier, you’re far more accustomed to coping with a crisis. You know how to hold your nerve.’

  ‘It nearly cost me a serious injury,’ said Cosgrove, holding up his bandaged hand. ‘Luckily, it was only a flesh wound. I might well have lost a finger or two.’

  ‘When did you first realise there was danger?’

  ‘It was not until the three of them suddenly appeared.’

  ‘Have you ever been in that situation before?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Skillen. A coach I was in was attacked several months ago.’

  ‘Was it at the same spot?’

  ‘No, sir, it was much closer to Bristol.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Luckily, we fought them off.’

  ‘Tell me – in your own words – about the latest incident.’

  Frowning in concentration, Cosgrove ran a meditative hand across his face. When he spoke, he gave a straightforward report of the ambush. It tallied in every way with what Paul had heard from Hannah, though it was delivered in a much more measured tone. There were some new details and Paul was grateful for them.

  ‘Could you describe the three men?’ he asked.

  ‘I didn’t have the time to look at them properly, sir. To be honest, I was too busy trying to stem the blood from my hand.’

 

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